


Fox Monsters And Raven Gangs

by fandom_cat



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Eden's Twilight, It all works out fine, M/M, Neil is worried, POV Adam Parrish, POV Ronan Lynch, Road Trips, cursing, i have not held back much, ronan meets andrew, seriously, some violence, very little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 08:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10827519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_cat/pseuds/fandom_cat
Summary: What would happen if the Gansey gang ran into the Monsters at Eden's Twilight?Andrew gets in trouble, Adam is the darkest, Gansey doesn't know how to deal with real-world violence, and Neil is a worried boyfriend."Andrew The Shithead stared back and Ronan knew he could see the shadows.Ronan had had numerous people recoil at the sight of his darkness. Andrew The Shithead smiled; not with his mouth but with a shadow of his own. Ronan returned it."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Very, very casually written short, three-chapter thing. Hope you enjoy.

Ronan was tapping on the bar.

It was taking way too long for the bartender to get to them – he seemed stuck with a group of losers flirting with him. Maybe he didn't care about his job and liked the attention better; maybe they were his friends. Ronan didn't care – he wanted his vodka and he had promised the maggot to get her rum. Infuriatingly, Adam next to him was completely calm. He seemed to be watching the loser group with mild interest, unconcerned with how long it was taking for the idiot bartender to do his job.

Finally, Ronan lost his patience. 

He walked to the last one of the losers – short as hell and blond and boring – and slammed his fist down at the frame in front of him so the bartender would notice.

“The fuck is taking y—”

He did not finish. Ronan was not expecting to feel a knife press to his side when he had approached the group. None of them seemed even remotely interesting.

Then he looked again. He could practically feel Adam behind him, knowing his boyfriend might not be able to see the problem but knew something was off. Ronan put that issue aside for a moment.

He stared down at the blond boring short shithead and found exactly what he had not been expecting to.

The asshole didn't move or speak or take a swing but he made silent promises Ronan knew he’d keep. The knife to his side was the least of the worries at hand. There was a difference between threats and real intent: like hearing the dog bark or feeling its bite.

This one was a biter.

Ronan noticed only barely the others from the shithead’s group shifting around, somebody calling the name “Andrew” and nobody answering, a flash of red hair coming closer but not crossing the space the two dogs were having a staring contest in.

It wasn't even sizing up. When somebody was measuring you they didn't tell you a life-story with their eyes. They were lifeless eyes: hazel, empty, eternal, unhesitant. Those were the eyes of serial killers and people without anything to lose. Ronan knew these eyes because he's had them before and sometimes did still.

Andrew The Shithead stared back and Ronan knew he could see the shadows.

Ronan had had numerous people recoil at the sight of his darkness. Andrew The Shithead smiled; not with his mouth but with a shadow of his own. Ronan returned it.

Beyond their staring war/apocalypse/end-of-the-world-event the earth was still revolving and stupid people were trying to make things normal.

The bartender had evidently remembered he had a job to keep because he asked, “So what would you like to drink?”

Maybe he thought it would defuse the tension. He didn't know there was no tension – just promises.

“Soda, thanks,” Adam said behind Ronan, sounding unconcerned and casual. It proved that Ronan had the perfect fucking boyfriend.

It made no difference to the course of the apocalypse. Andrew The Shithead had not moved the knife away but he had not pressed it further either. Ronan was confident he could snatch it away quickly enough but knew for a fact the other wouldn't care. They could try to fight or outsmart or outshit each other but no matter who the winner was, nobody would take the shadows away; and nobody would be remotely impressed with the result.

Ronan would not be so interested in those eyes if they were promising him a pissing contest.

“Hi, I’m Adam,” Ronan heard next to him. Adam had moved without him noticing which was a first. “Do you have a seat for me until these two finish introductions? I am exhausted…”

There was a short silence. Then, “Neil. Come take a bet if you'd like – the rest of them are already silently at it.”

A bet of who’d look away first, no doubt. Or who’ll take the first swing.

“I don't gamble,” Adam said.

“Neither do I,” Neil responded.

Adam was sitting apparently because there was a sound of a chair moving behind Shithead’s back.

Then, “Was that a knife?” Adam asked.

“Oh, yea,” Neil confirmed with the tone of a man who had seen those blades come out often enough to not be even remotely impressed.

This time, Ronan smiled for real. A flash of victory came and went in Shithead’s gaze faster than lightning. Ronan gave up.

He turned to the bar with the blade sliding off his side. It was at his back for a second but by the time he had called the loser bartender back, it had disappeared. He ordered the maggot’s rum and his vodka. While he waited, Ronan did not bother to acknowledge the Shithead any longer – they had said all which needed saying.

“So what brings a looker like you to this place?” somebody said to Adam all of a sudden. Ronan smiled to himself.

“Road trip with friends. One of us wanted to check this place out.”

“And when can I check _you_ out?” the someone asked.

Another voice interfered, a bit bored but still judgemental, “Don't beat around the bush or anything, Nicky...”

All of a sudden the Shithead was leaning in. He came as close to Ronan’s personal space as Ronan suspected he was comfortable with and sized him up this time.

“Want to borrow a knife?” he asked.

Ronan grinned at the Shithead with those lifeless eyes with so much inside their abyss. “Adam can take care of himself,” he said. “So direct that offer at him.”

“You two done making friends?” Adam asked instead of dignifying any of it with a response.

“You call that “making friends”?” Flirting Nicky asked.

Ronan downed his vodka first then grabbed the rum in his left hand to carry. He nodded at Andrew once, acknowledged redhead Neil without a word, and gave Adam a silent confirmation he was done for the night with new acquaintances. They left.

As they were heading towards their friends, Ronan heard only one voice make a comment.

“You planning to hate that guy more than me?”

“Impossible,” Andrew responded coolly. “He’s at mare 10 percent. You crossed 120 this spring.”

Ronan grinned to himself.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam understands Andrew better than the rest of them do.

Adam had not imagined a future in which they would cross paths with Neil and Andrew’s lot again but here they were.

It was very late that same night—or early next morning rather—and they had closed the club. It was something Adam had not imagined doing ever in life, since he was typically busy working or getting ready for work or collage, or studying, or talking to Ronan.

Adam was not a club guy.

But Henry had insisted on the pitstop and Ronan hadn't minded so they all tagged along in the end and stayed way too late: so much that Blue was asleep at the last row of seats of the rental minivan. Gansey was finishing up a drunkenly pompous conversation with somebody who turned out to be a Law school undergraduate and didn't know how to stop talking. Adam was the only one waiting out for their friend – even Ronan was by the car, inpatient to get going and likely grouchy because their designated driver was humouring a drunken Dick.

“That little shit stabbed me!” somebody shouted.

Normally, there was no point listening to drunken loud conversations near a club but this time Adam, for some reason, felt it was important to pay attention. He was rewarded for his insight.

“Hold him down,” a second voice hissed but it echoed in the almost empty darkness.

Adam didn't wait anymore after that. He glimpsed once at Ronan and then bolted towards the direction of the sounds. He assessed the situation as he was running.

Two men were struggling with a third between a row of cars. By the random motions of the intended victim, he was disoriented (drunk perhaps) but his attackers were not. Despite the brutally uneven odds, the two men were losing; their target was fighting like he had nothing to lose: limbs in every direction, body twisting violently, face turned into a monstrous grimace. Adam was certain if he got the chance, the man would bite his attacker’s faces off.

It was Andrew.

Behind Adam somebody was gaining, likely Ronan, but he had started late and was a dozen meters behind him when Adam had started running. The two men had managed to grab Andrew – one arm each, holding desperately to pin their victim down – but when they heard somebody approaching one of them let go.

Andrew wasted precisely zero seconds to use his free hand to punch the other one in the throat.

Adam reached them then and slammed himself into the second man still holding Andrew. Adam was not a fighter but he knew enough about violence that he could disorient his opponent for long enough. Ronan was there in a second and he was holding no punches. The man who had let Andrew first was now suffering for his mistake as well – his supposed victim had recovered a knife and was looking simultaneously completely out of it and perfectly capable of committing murder.

“Now now, gentlemen,” Gansey’s voice sounded from between the cars. Ronan connected his fist with his opponent one more time before pushing him backwards; the man stumbled but held his ground somehow. “Is this a way to end a good night out? Does this really need to get out of hand?”

“’S already out of hand,” Andrew spat and Adam had to agree with him. “I’m gon’ gut these m’ fuckers.”

“You little shit are more trouble you’re worth,” the man in danger of getting gutted hissed back.

“Should’ve thought ‘fore you drugged me, f’ tard!”

So that was why Andrew was so out of it! His attackers had decided to weaken him first and get to him when he was alone. The problem of where the rest of the group were was something for later. Now Adam was too aware of their current problem and he saw two ways of surviving: Gansey will sneak their way out of it or Ronan and Andrew will maim, break, and slash their way through it.

“Well, I see we all want violence,” Gansey said and Adam was impressed at the ease of his smile. “But I am the one with a phone in my hand and 911 ready to dial. Which one of you wants the police involved?”

Neither Andrew nor his attackers seemed delighted by the idea.

The two men couldn't look at each other – all others accept Gansey were standing between them – but somehow simultaneously they arrived at the same conclusion. They both turned around and snuck between the cars to get somewhere, likely very far away. Gansey’s hand holding the phone dropped and his politely smiling face immediately turned to raw horror.

He had fought magic and demons and actual death but two violent abducting bastards was too much of reality check for him, apparently.

Adam ignored him for the sake of Andrew. Who was of course collapsing to the ground.

Both Gansey and Ronan cursed under their breaths and rushed forward – Adam was not so stupid.

“Don't,” he warned.

He warded them off Andrew and leaned just slightly to watch the man.

Adam was not an idiot and he was not as innocent as most of his friends liked to believe he was. He had seen the violent side of people and the monsters who lived inside them. He had grown up in a home without love and with a lot else bad. He had met Andrew only for a moment and he had seen his shadows as he had seen Ronan’s long time ago; but Ronan's darkness was grief while Andrew’s felt like survival.

Adam had seen survival and felt it, he knew what it tasted like on the tongue, how it burned your nostrils, and what it felt like in the soul. The only reason his shadows were invisible was because people were too busy looking at Ronan and seeing danger; looking at Blue and seeing mystery; looking at Gansey and Henry and seeing wealth or entitlement or their polite fucking manners. Adam was the invisible one but he could see more than the rest of them would ever want to.

But the others couldn't notice what Adam had.

“Hey man,” Ronan called and reached out.

Adam tried to stop his hand but Andrew reacted first. He slashed with the blade right across Ronan's forearm and Ronan recoiled right away, hissing and cursing and regretting a stupid choice.

“Told you not to, dickhead,” Adam said.

“That was very fucking ungrateful,” Ronan muttered but didn't seem angry.

Adam ignored him for a moment. “Is Neil inside, Andrew? Do you want me to get him?”

“No,” the man muttered. It was unclear which question he was answering, until he added, “Came back wi’out ‘em.”

It meant he probably had a car somewhere around here, but there was no point searching for it – Adam was the only one who could drive from the lot of them and it was unreasonable to leave the rest of the gang behind. On the other hand, a car can be picked up tomorrow.

“Let us drive you to them. We have a minivan and an empty row of seats you can lie on.”

“If you’d recovered from the shock,” Gansey offered politely, “myself and Ronan can help you get there. You look rather out of it.”

“I ‘ink you're ugly too,” Andrew snapped. “’Nd don’ fuckin’ touch me. I walk.”

They had to pause and wait for Andrew several times. They could see Henry had come out of the minivan to check out what was going on, but apparently he hadn't had the heart to leave Blue alone. Adam wondered whether she'd be outraged or grateful at her partner’s considerate gesture.

Finally, the four of them got to the vehicle. Gansey gestured to Henry to open the door and Andrew slipped inside, immediately crashing to the seat and refusing to acknowledge anybody.

“Can you squeeze in with Blue?” Gansey asked his partner. “I’ll go in the front with Adam and Ronan.”

“Sure. But who's the fellow?”

“Long story,” Adam said. He wanted to get going already. Their hotel awaited and he liked the idea of his bed. Plus, he didn't want to scrub puke off the minivan’s seats if Andrew’s stomach decided it cannot handle the drugs plus alcohol cocktail it was milling right now.

Adam climbed up last. He started the engine and looked over his shoulder at Andrew.

“Where to?”

The man gave him the address and Adam drove. He was extremely grateful he didn't hear the sounds of barfing from the back seat throughout the trip.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil gets to fuss over hurt Andrew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ta-da

“What the fuck, Andrew?”

Nicky had opened the door; Adam remembered him from earlier that night. But it was not him Adam was looking for when he stumbled in the house with Andrew leaning on him for support. He had been surprised the man had let him help, but Andrew was so out of it was impossible to walk on his own.

“Neil,” Adam asked.

“I’ll get him,” Nicky promised and ran inside the house.

They had just made it to the nearest couch when Neil joined them with Nicky trailing behind. Andrew collapsed, eyes closed, and refused to acknowledge any of them.

“Explain,” Neil said to Adam.

“He got drugged by some guys. They seemed to be trying to abduct him. It did not end well for them.”

“Andrew,” Neil said.

Briefly, Andrew opened his eyes. It seemed as if a conversation passed between him and his boyfriend. Then Andrew said firmly, “No.” It immediately relaxed Neil. “Jus’ some random ‘icks.”

“Let me get you to bed.”

Neil helped Andrew up and they stumbled to the bedroom. Adam was gathering himself to leave.

“Stay,” Neil told him when he noticed.

“My friends are waiting for me,” Adam said.

“Stay,” Neil repeated firmly.

It took only five minutes for Neil to return. In the meantime, Adam texted Gansey to let him know he’d be a moment longer, then checked the hotel’s website on his phone to remind himself again the soft kingsize bed he’d share with Ronan was absolutely worth this wait. Nicky was watching him like he would try to ask something, but Adam was glad they didn't talk – he was saving all his remaining strength for the drive.

Then Neil returned.

“Thank you for helping Andrew out. He will not say so, but it was good you were there to save him.”

Adam smirked. “He didn't look in need of much saving.”

“Did those guys say anything? How many were there?”

“Two,” Adam said. “They seemed to be feeling like Andrew was too much work for whatever they intended to do with him.”

“He looks small and harmless from behind,” Nicky noted.

Neil ignored the comment. “Did they speak in another language? Say anything else?”

There seemed to be more to the story of this group, which somehow did not surprise Adam. A gathering of such interesting individuals somehow always seemed to come with either baggage or an awaiting adventure. Or both.

Adam was glad Gansey had not met this bunch – he would not be able to resist them.

“They had drugged Andrew and seemed to be trying to abduct him. But when we arrived, they were already giving up the struggle and were about to leave. I think they just didn't get the chance to before Andrew cut one of them opened with a knife.”

Neil nodded thoughtfully. Nicky looked only mildly terrified but unsurprised.

“Thank you again, Adam. Do you need anything? A ride maybe?”

“My ride and my friends are waiting outside,” Adam said. “I hope you guys figure it out.”

“Me too,” Neil muttered. “Bye.”

Adam left and was not planning to stop. Until—

“Do you like Exy?” Nicky asked.

Already at the door, Adam turned while he shrugged – an effort of multitasking which required some concentration. “My University has a team. I’ve seen a game.”

“We have a game tomorrow,” Nicky said. “Come see us play. Palmetto State Foxes, we have a game at five against the Jackals.”

“I’ll have to clear it with the gang. But thank you.”

Then Adam hurried back to the van and – after a thankfully short drive – to the soft kingsized bed and Ronan.


End file.
